


Tomorrow

by An0n_Ym0us



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Animal Death, Animals, Apocalypse, Character Death, Creatures, Emotions, Feral Behavior, Friend Or Foe, Hunting, Hurt No Comfort, Insanity, Nature, OC, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Fiction, Post-Apocalypse, Survival, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-09-27 13:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20408704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An0n_Ym0us/pseuds/An0n_Ym0us
Summary: The journal entries of one Magnolia Barnes show a post apocalyptic world that can only be described as both terrifying and beautiful. This story will describe not only her hardships but also her discoveries both about herself and the creatures that surround her. What will become of Magnolia? Will she make it to tomorrow? Or will she become just as mad as the rest of the creatures on her Earth?





	1. Entry One: 20th anniversary

Journal Entry 1:  
8/26/39

Twenty years ago today, 8/26/19, the world ended as we know it. Now, it stands as an overgrown wilderness with radioactive wildlife, and plants far to big to be anything of the old world. The plants are bioluminescent. The animals, well, they have warped and shaped beyond recognition; you would have to know what they were originally to recognize past the extra eyes and teeth . They are evolving to fit their biome. Think chernobyl, but globally. All electronics have stopped working thanks to magnetism. Anything metal is far too heavy to lift off of the ground. It is like the earth's core was replaced with the largest magnet known to man. Attracting everything towards the overgrown lands.

At first, when this all started, the buildings began to crumple like tin cans. They eventually found themselves at ground zero. The eyes of the deer shine like glow sticks at night. They look rather entrancing, if you have no fear. Otherwise the glowing eyes varying from red, green, and yellow, look ready to reap your soul. Always watching. Their antlers have a soft glow about them but don’t let their beauty fool you. Radiation left the peaceful creatures with nothing but anger issues and murderous tendencies. If the radiation didn’t kill you, the animals would.

Not many people made it. Past global destruction, i mean. Man as we know it started to devolve as a species. They became aggressive, and irrational. Some turned to cannibalism. We could not trust our own families anymore. The ones who died from radiation were burned to a crisp. Others, the ones who survived, are marred with scars all across their bodies. Including me. I try to document my own reactions to the radiation exposure as much as possible. So far, about 35% of my body has scar tissue. Nerve endings, dead. My nails and hair grow twice as fast after the original falling out of both. My body is changing in ways I could not predict. I can tell that I am declining mentally as I too have gained violent tendencies. Losing myself to the beast we creatures used to be. I barely even remember my own outbursts. It’s like a violent dissociation.

I stopped cutting my hair years ago. There is no point in it. Within a week it has grown two or three inches. My hair is thicker, more course. It used to be thin and soft. Now it resembles something more like wolfs fur. My hair changed colors too; though, I barely remember the days were my hair was a light blonde color. Now, my hair is nearly orange. The strawberry undertones intensified, leaving me with a fiery orange. This can be quite troublesome as I practically glow at night. This is also due to my regular consumption of glowing plants and animals. There is nothing else to eat unless I want to lose my mind and pick a person as my appetizer. That wouldn’t be happening anytime soon; I refuse to become like Gordan Ramsey. He went on a murder spree just after the origional explosion, he lost his mind to the void.

Let’s classify those who have gone crazy as "insanicus homosaphienus"  
or “madders”. I quite like madders. It sounds like an angry monster; which is exactly what these creatures are. They have lost their humanity. I have gone up against quite a few madders, and sometimes, I think I see a hint of who they used to be spark in their eyes. Don’t get me wrong, they still try to kill me every chance they get. It is just that, just before death, when they look down the barrel of my pistol, their nostrils flare and their eyes show something akin to a human. They show recognition of what is about to happen to them; they show fear. I think seeing that in them makes it even harder to kill them. Because I have come to realize they are still sentient beings. They are aware of themselves and everyone around them. They are just, feral. I have not tried to fix a madder. I doubt I could get close enough to one without being ripped to shreds. Their teeth sharpened, and nails oddly serrated. Not only are their nails sharp, they cause nasty infections. If they cause wounds, you risk dying of infection. Exposure does not make every cut easier to bare. Severe infections take the weak. The strong barely survive. If they do survive, they risk becoming a madder themselves. It is better to kill from a distance. Hand to hand combat is too risky.

I hate to kill them, because their faces are all too human. Their eyes hold a history. I am looking a soul in the face, and no matter how violent a madder is, they still look like the people I once loved. I only kill them when they charge me. I don’t keep count of my kills, the guilt is enough on its own. Keeping count seems almost psychopathic. It is too violent to recognize what I have done with not only my hands but various other weapons. When I do go out into the wilderness that used to be called Mobile Alabama, i make sure to avoid contact with any other creatures. What is even scarier than a madder you may ask? A sane person, if they see you, they will assume you are infected and kill you on sight. Yelling “I am not feral!” or “Please don’t kill me!” does nothing. There is no mercy for the people who are still themselves. There is survival, death, or insanity. Those are my options. I chose survival twenty years ago, but sometimes I think death sounds pleasant enough.

Anyways, I think that is enough for today.  
Happy anniversary, Doomsday.  
Signing off, Magnolia Barnes


	2. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia finds herself on the hunt for food. Will her survival instincts keep her alive? Or will she find herself in a sticky situation.

First Person POV: Magnolia Barnes  
8/27/39

My stomach rumbled when I awoke from my short nap. I only slept when I had to and never for very long. I couldn't risk having my position blown. I remember learning about hunter gatherers in school, nomads too. I guess that is what I am now. For thirty years old the ache in my body made me feel twice that age. I pushed myself off of the tattered backpack I had used as a pillow. That thing had survived being thrown at madders; not to mention the seems stayed together. Long ago I had noticed the name on the tag of the backpack. Annie. On occasion, when I felt myself losing it, i'd rub the tag between my fingers and stare at the name. The thought of some kid named Annie trotting around looking for her backpack kept me going. If I found her, I swore to give it back to her. If the world ever got up and running again (haha that's a funny thought) i'd have to send a thanks letter to the company. If they were alive, that is. 

The soft hum of the creatures that made the night seem so alive had begun. My short nap had only lasted until dusk. Even so, The plants began to intensify in neon coloring. The only lucky thing about the world as it is, is that I will never need a flash light. Getting out of the safety of the crumbled building I had taken refuge in, I slung my backpack over my shoulder. The jingle caused me to cringe. I am pretty sure the radiation had caused my hearing skills to intensify. Not only could I hear the constant buzzing of bugs, and the hum of frogs; I could hear a twig snap and estimate how far away it was from me. Which was rather useful. Looking back at the overgrown building I huffed out a breath. Here we go. The soft crunch of leaves twice the size they would have been twenty years ago followed the weight of my steps. The ground would glow just beneath my feet. It only lasted for as long as my feet stayed amongst the earth, but it was still very intriguing. I wish it lasted longer, It would be easier to trail after prey. Though, I guess that would go for me too. Madders would only have to follow the teal, shoe shaped, tracks. It was a warm night, but the wind still prickled my skin. Call it the constant fear of being killed by someone I once knew. Cringing at the thought, I pushed forward.

It had been about ten minutes and the building I had rested in was far out of sight. Being exposed to the world like this was always terrifying. My breaths were quiet and short. I tried my best to step as slowly and delicately as possible. It wasn't long before I heard the soft trill of a frog go silent. I knew it was not me the frog had heard. My heart began to race but I kept my breathing minimal, and slow. Somewhere along the way I had picked up a pocket knife. I reached back to pull it out of the side pocket. Only to be stopped by the sound of a twig snapping to the left. Instead of getting the knife, I crouched low. If it was anything larger than a rabbit I was in danger. The twig had snapped quietly so whatever it was, was lighter than a madder. The twig sounded small, but it was enough to cut off the songs of the nocturnal amphibians that most certainly surrounded me.

Even with the soft glow of the brush covering me I could not get a good idea of what it was. Definitely not a rabbit. It grunted and grumbled as it rummaged the glowing earth. Its eyes, a glowing green. Coming closer I noticed the bandit mask across its face. I was hiding from a raccoon. Pathetic. I still held a great respect for the animals around me, but they had become less of quiet beings lately. Their violent tendencies made them seem like tasmanian devils. Angry, and loud snarling would resound through the night when I stayed in hiding. Tonight though, the creature just sounded lightly miffed as it rummaged for its dinner. Finally, I reached for the pocket knife. It made a sound as the titanium blade slip out of the fabric woven pocket. The racoon stopped, and so did I. He sniffed the air once or twice, ears twitching to listen for me. Finding it safe enough he went back to rummaging. 

It wasn't until I had become ready to take the poor animals life did I hear the much larger, heavier crunch of leaves. The breathing was deep, and I could practically hear the rumble in its chest. This was not my food to take. As far as I am concerned I could be its dinner if it notices me. A black bear charged the racoon, its midnight fur covering the plants in a darkness resembling a sky with no stars. Their squabble was just enough for me to get out of the way and run. The animals around here had changed so much. Turning on one another, simply seeing them as either sport or food. I had seen predators simply leave their kills. Only angry with the fact that they were in their territory. My heart raced so loudly in my ears I barely heard my own clumsy foot falls. The ground illuminating my steps only made me more paranoid. What if it heard me? What if it saw me? What if it smelled me? It could decide the racoon is an appetizer and head straight for me. 

Breathing uneven and quite a large distance between us I didn't stop running. Who stops when they know a bear can run 30 miles per hour? If it wanted me dead I would be. I didn't have time to look back, I feared karma would get me if I did. Eventually, I couldn't run anymore. My body shook and my legs ached from the distance. My breathing was ragged and the pain in my lungs was something I hadn't felt since the time I took fitness gram pacer test. Slowing down to a quick jog I finally looked back. No bear. And that's when it happened. I collided with something stiff, but not solid. A loud clapping sound as I fell to the ground. I had out run the bear, but in turn ran into something else. The pain started to run through me as I felt the soft dewy grass between my fingers. Looking up at the sky I noticed a dark shape with no stars in it. Before my eyes finally closed from exhaustion and what would probably be a concussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking I will be able to produce a page a day. The goal is a thousand words per chapter. This started out as a drabble, but I want it to be something more. Also, I will be switching between journal entries and first person POV.


	3. Friend or Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia finds herself with a pounding headache, and somewhere she hasn't been before. Now she's being yelled at by a stranger for god knows why. Yeah, that headache is getting worse.

First Person POV: Magnolia Barnes

8/28/39

Laying still I felt the wave of pain come rearing back into focus. My eyes were still closed but the dark could not hide my realization I wasn't alone. I could smell a fire going and heard the crackles and pops of it. There was a muffled murmuring going on too. Trying my best to focus on it, I realized the murmuring was a voice. "Alright listen hear-" I flinched a little at the tone of the voice. Did he know I was awake? No. Is he, rehearsing? "No, no that's too harsh. Um, hm. Ok, look, I don't know who you are, but- Damnit!" I heard a pot crash and slosh liquid onto the ground. A slew of curses left the mans mouth as I tried to stay as still as possible. I heard the pot be moved and the sizzle of the fire. I giggled internally. This idiot just put out his own fire, while trying to rehearse what he'd say to me. The laughter in my head didn't last long as I felt the tight restrictions on my hands. Did this guy- did he tie me up? What the hell? He started up again with his rehearsing and I decided to make myself known. The rope around my wrists was cutting off circulation to my hands anyways.

Opening my eyes the flood of light shot pain directly to my skull. I grunted and rolled to the side. What I found in front of me was an older man, about 45 or so. His hair was brown and messy. There were gray streaks in it. He seemed pretty well groomed for a survivalist. It didn't take me very long to notice the burn marks that stretched up the mans arms. Only thing obstructing my view was the stained tank top he wore. His eyes were brown, and cold, but also held something softer behind them. Like he was conflicted on how to react to me. The eye contact stretched on for too long. I cleared my throat, looking away from his face. "Uh-" he started out, not seeming to know what to say anymore. Eventually he pulled himself together and changed facial expressions to something darker, more strict. "Alright look, I don't know who you are, but the only thing that's keeping you alive is that backpack. Now, where did you get it? And, how the hell do you know Annie?" My eyes widened to the size of saucers. This guy knew Annie? Also, if I told him, would he kill me? I needed to be smart about this.

"Um, I found it. There is a school were the city used to be. I found it in the rubble." ok, so, I'm doomed. What the hell Magnolia? Trying to get yourself killed? I angrily thought to myself. I was having a hard time looking this guy in the face. I decided to change topics because he was just staring at me. "Hey, uh, I can't really feel my hands anymore..." He jumped at that. "Oh, shit, right I forgot. Uh, look, if I untie these you have to not try and kill me. because I won't hesitate to-" I rolled my eyes "Alright big guy I get it. Just take them off. I seriously can't feel my hands." Something in his face changed again. Damn this guy is moody. "Listen hear you little shit, don't get snappy with me I'll leave you out here for one of those- those things to find!" I felt myself go pale. He wasn't kidding. "O- ok! I'm sorry just, please untie me." I guess he had been out here for a while. His aggression flipped like a switch. He was trigger happy. He seemed to come back to himself and muttered an apology as he untied my hands. The purple-ish tint to them was a bit jarring. I couldn't feel pain, mainly from the dead nerve endings. But I knew when something was dangerous enough to hurt me. I rubbed them together to get the blood flowing back into them.

"So, I don't really feel comfortable calling you "Red". What's your name exactly?" He looked a little guilty from his earlier outburst. I wasn't gonna give this guy my real name. "Maggie. Yours?" He smiled softly at that. "Dean, Dean Aldridge." That sounded genuine. I felt a little guilty lying, but I don't know him at all. "Also, you have her backpack. Have you seen her?" I felt a pang of worry as I looked in his eyes. They seemed desperate, but hopeful. Was he Annie's dad or something? "I'm gonna be honest with you. There was no one near that backpack when I found it." He nodded, something hopeful, but sad on his face. His shoulders slouched a bit. "I've been uh, looking for Annie since this all started. She's my niece. But I adopted her as my own at a young age. My brother, wasn't the best dad to say the least." This guy was an open book. 

I nodded in recognition. "You sound like a good guy and all, but I really don't know you." I was still in the same place I was earlier, sitting there I awkwardly pushed myself back. Closer to the corner of wherever we were. All I know is that it was sheltered. He laughed a little. "I don't know you either, stranger." Just because he was nice now didn't mean he always would be. He proved that earlier, threatening to leave me to die and all. I suddenly smelled something burning. "Are you cooking?" His face melted into something of horror. "Shit! God damnit! " I don't think I've ever heard so many curses in my life. I laughed at his foolishness. What was left of his charred dinner was little more than a piece of rabbit meat. He'd apparently given up on whatever he had been boiling earlier. 

His face was tinted pink in embarrassment. "I was never very good at cooking." He admitted to me. I gave him a crooked smile. "Me either, I was ten when it all happened." That was all he was getting out of me. "....Ten...Jesus. You were just five years older than Annie." I looked at him in shock. I quietly whispered. "She was in kindergarten?" He looked absolutely broken at that question. Oh wow, ok, and he's crying. How long has he been out here? His emotions are all over the place. "Hey, woah, it's ok." He stopped crying. What was scarier than his angry face was the one completely devoid of emotion. My pulse raced as I looked him in the eye. He was unreadable. I don't know if i'll be sticking around here for very long. I thought to myself, fiddling with my hands. "It's not ok." He looked straight through me. I felt cold at the aspect of him losing it. The hairs on the back of my neck standing. This guy was one snap away from becoming a madder himself.

Then he switched again. He seemed to become quiet, but in a more comfortable way. He folded his hands in his lap. "Well, you're probably hungry right?" I found it best to just play along. The goosebumps on my arms stayed. I wouldn't be relaxing in his presence for a while. "Yeah... I have some supplies for cooking in my- Annie's bag." He smiled. "I know, I already searched the bag. Also why do you have a gun in there?" My face burned. "You went through my bag?!" I tossed the jumper that was laid over me at him. "What if I had something personal in there huh?" I knew exactly why he looked through the bag already, but was still miffed at the unconsented search of my belongings. He chuckled nervously. Geez this guy is all kinds of odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought in such a serious setting I feel we should have a bit of a page to help you figure out the personality types of these two characters.


	4. Journal Entry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia gets back on track to update her journal. Not only that, she finds herself having to explain a few things to the kooky man she collided with previously.

Journal Entry 2:  
8/29/39

So, Journal, many things have changed. I had a hunt go sideways, I got a concussion, and oh yeah! I'm stuck with some weird guy. The only thing about him that I find interesting is that he knows Annie. He's her uncle/dad. I have to say that I am mildly scared of him. I still haven't forgiven him for searching my things. I mean, who does that? Ok, I would, but still! Rude! Anyways, minus the chaotic update of the past few days I am in pain. My head has prevented me from walking around. My heart thrums in my head, it's like my brain is throbbing. Quite honestly I'm surprised he isn't injured by how hard I ran into him. Though, he is a good bit taller than me. I'd say he is about six foot one. Compared to me, a five foot two red headed gremlin. I wonder what he thinks of me? I also wonder why I care about such a trivial thing. Geez, I can't tell if it's the concussion or I'm really this weird. I think it's a mix of both. I have been feeling, off. Not only does my head hurt like a bitch, I am also feeling pretty ill. I have been throwing up, and having weird dreams. My body has been hard to control. I lean to the side, or find myself having sudden vertigo. Maybe this concussion is more serious than I thought.

Something I noticed about this Dean guy is he has more than just burn marks on him. He has multiple defensive wounds. Upon closer inspection, I saw he has a scar running from his eyebrow and into his hairline. I don't really want to think about the five fingered scratches on him. Mostly it means that he has survived a madders infections, more than once. Was he immune? How good is his immune system? He was obviously strong if he was that close to madders without getting killed. Another scary thought. He was strong, took on madders close range, is tall, and has very obvious signs of anger issues. If not bi-polar disorder. I hate saying he "Flips like a switch" but, well, he does. It's really scary. He is very much not in control of himself and I can't tell what's radiation, and what's mental health as a whole. Other than his very quick mood changes he seems to be rather nice. He tries to be patient with me. When he isn't angry he is soft spoken and gentle. Though, I don't really let him get close enough to touch me. Fear from our first interaction still running its course. 

He is slow to approach me, like I'm some wild animal. Which, ok, kind of offends me but I understand why. I have long, matted, red hair. I'm short, but my temper is large. I am lean, but have very prominent muscles. Whether that's from starvation, or pure strength, I'm not sure. It's pretty mutual if I'm being honest here. I am not very good at approaching him. Probably from my extensive period without normal human contact. Actually, seeing someone who isn't trying to kill me has been really hard for me. When his brown eyes soften like he's looking at a family member, I find myself wishing mine was here. I miss them. I miss them a lot. Now I've brought it upon myself to mope about people who are long gone. Not only do I miss their faces, I miss touch. I miss being held in their arms and being told things would be ok. Things are less predictable now, and no matter how much this guy scares me, I still wish he would stand a little closer. I crave affection. 

He has been able to bring me out of my shell a bit, though, we don't talk too much. He also doesn't seem to understand concepts such as, I am antisocial not to mention don't trust you. He asks a lot of questions. Sometimes they get a little too personal for my liking and I bristle. I know it's my fault, but still, I can't really control my anger. I have noticed that when I get mad he gets conflicted. He tries to remain calm. Sometimes that doesn't happen though. Sometimes we go round and round yelling at each other. Completely out of control. When we "come to" it's like we don't know how to act anymore. Both too stubborn to fix it. Usually he is the first to apologize. He is very emotive, and I can tell he feels guilty for his outbursts. I keep my face placid, not letting him in. He doesn't need to know that it bothered me. The calmer I look, the easier it is for him to gain control over himself. Unless of course my lack of emotions pisses him off even more.

I just wish we could get along, but I know that won't be happening until some trust is put into one another. It won't be happening on my side. He has been rather honest with me, and tried pretty hard to get to know me. It's just not something I can do within two days. He may be easy to trust but I am not. I had watched my living family members slowly lose their minds. I had killed them when they did. If I couldn't trust family, I certainly couldn't trust him. He is idiotic to even trust me. I am just as much a stranger to him as he is to me. I haven't been nice either. What is with this guy? He really must be crazy huh? Maybe I am just trying to convince myself I am justified in my ill mannered attitude towards him. Maybe I am right; maybe I am wrong. Who knows.

Anyways, that is about it on updates and my feelings on them. That should suffice right? I don't know. I'm gonna pretend I don't care.  
Signing off, Magnolia Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I apologize for my absence. I have no proper excuse. Mainly school, friends, family, and my relationship. I have been all kinds of distracted. I intend to pick up where I left off.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a continuous and on-going story. For all I know this could be a short, or a novel. It just depends on the feedback I receive, and how much time I have to actually write.


End file.
